by David Nees
“We wait…for now,” Clayton said.
Kevin turned and walked back to the gate. As he passed the Humvee Jason saw him gesture to the others to stay inside. At the barricade his firm voice carried back to the vehicles. “I’m going through to talk with someone in authority to get your orders changed. These people are to not be bothered while I’m gone. Am I clear?” The man he had spoken to nodded and the lieutenant stormed past him.
It took Kevin only minutes of fast walking to reach the barter site, but there was nobody there worth talking to, only civilians, a few minor officials and a sprinkling of watchful militia around the perimeter. He set off for City Hall, cursing the time it was taking. He hadn’t taken the Humvee because he had wanted to leave Gibbs and the others to make sure nothing crazy happened while he was gone.
He had not gone a block and a half before he saw Frank and Joe walking towards him. The two men were accompanied by three guards carrying M16s. The guards looked more like Joe’s personal gang than militia, Kevin thought. “Mason, I need a word with you,” Kevin shouted. The men stopped as he approached.
“The farmers are at the checkpoint. They’ve been told they can’t bring weapons into town. They’re all armed. You have to be armed out in the countryside, especially when you’re hauling valuable goods.”
Both men looked at Kevin. Finally Frank said, “And so, what’s the problem?”
Kevin stepped closer to Frank. One of Joe’s bodyguards started forward, but Joe stopped him with a gesture. Kevin said, “The problem is they need to be allowed to take their weapons with them into town, so I need you to talk to the guards.”
“I can’t do that,” Frank replied.
“You’re the head of the Safety Committee around here,” Kevin said. Then he turned to Joe “Or maybe you run the committee. One of you can authorize what I’m asking. Don’t give me the ‘I can’t’ routine.”
Joe didn’t say anything. Frank shook his head.
“You better come to the checkpoint and tell them yourself. If some agreement isn’t reached, you may not have a trading session,” Kevin continued.
“Let’s see what’s going on,” Frank said. They walked quickly back to the trading area, where Frank commandeered an old Pontiac with militia markings.
Jason had gotten out of the pickup and was fighting the urge to pace. It wouldn’t help the others for him to look nervous. He walked up to the lead Humvee where Catherine was talking to Rodney Gibbs.
“Do you think there will be any trouble getting us in?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Catherine,” the sergeant replied. The two of them were leaning against the grill of the Humvee. About half the people in the convoy had disembarked and were milling uncertainly around the troop truck behind the two wagons. “The town has a lot of rules and restrictions. I should’ve seen this coming.”
“Probably should have,” Jason said. They looked around at him. “I don’t mean to sound critical, but this is a big screw up.”
“You’re not wrong. Let’s see what the lieutenant can accomplish,” Rodney said.
There was the sound of a vehicle’s tires crunching over debris. After a moment, Kevin came into view, followed by five men. Three carried automatic rifles. The other two wore suits and ties. The militia guards parted to let the group through.
Jason went to meet the men. “Did you work anything out?” he asked Kevin.
“Jason, this is Frank Mason. He’s the chairman of the Safety Committee. That’s the main authority in town. And this is Joe Stansky. He’s recently been appointed the Director of Resources.”
The man named Mason stuck his hand out. After a distinct pause, Stansky extended his hand as well. Jason shook hands with the two men. He looked them over. “Where’s the mayor?” he asked.
Frank Mason smiled at him. “The mayor died of a heart attack last year, and the town council decided to select a smaller group to run the city for the duration of the crisis. The Safety Committee essentially sets the rules for civil order and establishes a militia for general defense.”
Jason stared at the man. He seemed familiar…and then it came to him. “I ran into you two years ago. Before I left the area. Your goons roughed me up one day. As I remember, you told me to stay out of Hillsboro unless I turned all my supplies and weapons over to you.”
Frank’s face remained impassive as he stared back at Jason. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember. A lot was going on two years ago and we were struggling to not have complete anarchy break out.” Then he smiled suddenly. “You’re Jason Richards, the guy who fought off the gang…what was that guy’s name?”
“Big Jacks,” Joe Stansky said in a flat voice. Jason could feel the big man’s gaze measuring him.
“Yeah! That was quite a feat. And now you’ve got the farms organized. Congratulations on doing such a good job. We’re happy to welcome you to Hillsboro.”
“It’s not much of a welcome when you want us to disarm just to come into town,” Jason replied.
“I told them that you regularly carry weapons. It’s a normal thing to do outside of the city,” Kevin.
A flicker of irritation crossed Frank’s face. He still smiled at Jason, but when he answered his voice carried a harder edge. “Outside of the city we don’t have a problem with you carrying weapons, but inside of the city we do. And you come under the city’s rules when you come to town.”
“Well, that won’t work for us. First of all, we can’t leave our weapons behind unsecured. They might disappear.” Jason paused and forced himself to smile back at Frank. “Second, how do we know we’ll be safe in town, being unarmed?”
He glanced around at the others. The farmers had come up in a group behind him. Sergeant Gibbs and Specialist Wilkes stood off to his left, while the two clans were gathered behind the farmers—all of the hill men had their rifles with them, though most were slung over their shoulders. They all watched attentively while giving Jason space to talk with the officials.
“We can arrange to store the weapons safely,” Frank said. “You can even inventory them to make sure you get them all back. And I can assure you, you will be safe in town. No citizen will try to harm you or your people.”
“It’s not the citizens I’m worried about, but your militia. Remember, I’ve seen it in action, how they were abusing citizens. I’m not willing to let myself or my people get on the receiving end of that.”
“That was two years ago,” Frank said. “That’s all changed. They were a bit rough around the edges back then. Things weren’t under control. Now they’re well trained and everyone knows the rules and follows them.” He spread his hands earnestly. “I control the militia and we want to do business with you. You and your group will be just fine.”
Jason looked calmly at Frank while his mind raced. He wasn’t convinced by Frank’s assurances. He could feel the eyes of the entire convoy on his back. Turning to Kevin, he was about to ask him what he thought when Tom stepped forward to stand beside him.
“Tell this SOB we don’t disarm,” Tom said in a growl. “We lost people defending ourselves and we’re not going to lie down and be told what to do. He wants to trade, he lets us in like we are.”
Just then Clayton Jessup came up to Jason and Tom. In a clear voice he announced, “I don’t give up my rifle for no one. ‘Specially city folk.”
“Who’s that?” Frank asked Kevin.
“That’s Mr. Jessup. He represents some woodsmen from further up north. They’ve come to trade with the town as well.” Kevin kept his gaze focused on Frank, and added, in a slower, more emphatic tone, “It would be nice to show him some respect and to welcome him to Hillsboro.”
Jason saw Joe Stansky’s eyes narrow. Frank ignored the suggestion. “Well, they can come in, but they have to abide by our rules.” He paused for a moment, visibly controlling his irritation with the lieutenant, then continued. “Look, I can’t give you special treatment. You’ll be safe and your weapons secure, but I can’t go around making exceptions. I s
tart doing that and I’ll have trouble in town.” He folded his arms over his chest and stared at Jason.
Tom’s face turned red. “You want food? You want something to eat? Then you let us in and treat us with respect. I don’t care what rules you set for the people in town, but you don’t dictate what we do.” He was shouting now.
Claire Nolan’s voice rang out from behind. “I lost my husband fighting for our lives! We didn’t get any help from you and we don’t want any. You asked for this trade, now let us in or we go home.”
“My pa died defending us.” Billy Turner yelled.
As the shouting increased, Jason turned and saw that the clansmen were spreading out and unslinging their rifles from their shoulders. Joe’s bodyguards tensed and brought their weapons up, as did the guards at the barricade.
“Order!” Frank shouted.
The soldiers standing behind Cameron were bringing their rifles to the ready position and looking at their lieutenant. “Oh my God,” Jason thought, “Anne and the baby. We can’t start shooting.” He raised his hands in the air. ”Quiet!” he shouted at the angry farmers. “Quiet down!”
Chapter 10
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J ust then there were a series of siren whoops that none of them had heard in years and an old Cadillac sedan with “POLICE” written on the sides pulled into view and skidded to a stop right behind the barricade. The sound caused everyone to pause. Three police officers got out of the car. Jason recognized the white-haired man who got out on the driver’s side as Charlie Cook, the chief of police.
Chief Cook adjusted his jacket and stepped through the gap with his two officers. They were all in their police uniforms, official-looking in spite of their visibly worn condition.
“What’s going on here? We got some kind of disturbance?” the police chief said in a crisp, authoritative tone.
Kevin turned to him. The lieutenant’s face remained calm, but Jason saw a hint of relief in it. “Charlie, these are the farmers we invited to town to trade. Now Frank tells me they can’t come into town with their weapons.”
Chief Cook looked thoughtful at what was obviously not news to him. He turned to Frank. Frank raised an eyebrow as if to say, what are you going to do about this? “Lieutenant, we do have an ordinance about weapons,” Cook said after a moment.
“I know, but that’s for the town people. It shouldn’t have to apply to this group.”
“I told you, we can’t make an exception,” Frank jumped in.
“I think it would be useful to hear Charlie’s view,” Kevin said sharply.
“Well, it wouldn’t look right,” Charlie said after some time, his voice now more tentative. He didn’t look at Frank. Frank was already visibly angered by Kevin’s openly expressed disagreement with his authority.
“Who’s speaking for the farmers?” Chief Cook asked.
Everyone turned to Jason. “I am,” he responded.
“So you’re not willing to abide by the town’s rules in order to come in and trade?”
“We’re not willing to give up our weapons, if that’s what you mean. We’ll abide by all other rules you’ve got set up. Maybe you can fill us in so we don’t get blindsided like this again.”
“Their weapons are important to them. Outside of the city they’re necessary for survival, both for hunting and for defense,” Kevin offered.
“Lieutenant, you’re part of the military authority here in Hillsboro, but we set the rules for our citizens and how we operate in town,” Charlie said. “How about you take control of the weapons and your men assume responsibility for the safety of the group? I’ll be responsible for our citizens…for them not harming anyone.”
Kevin turned to Jason for his response.
“Let me talk to everyone,” Jason said. He walked back with Kevin to the space between the Humvee and the lead pickup, with the group following and gathering around him.
“What does he mean when he says you’ll take control of the weapons?” Tom asked the lieutenant.
“He doesn’t know. It just sounds good to Charlie. But he is the chief of police and that should count for something. What I can do is tag them for everyone, with their owner’s names, and secure them in our compound. You know Sergeant Gibbs and Specialist Wilkes. They’re men we can trust. They can be directly in charge of the arms.”
“You trust this man?” Clayton asked Jason.
“With my life. And I trust the two men he just mentioned.”
“I don’t trust that guy doin’ all the talking,” Clayton said.
“I don’t trust him either,” Jason replied. “How’d he get so important?”
“He’s a politician. Makes for a good opportunist,” Kevin replied.
“Who’s the big guy?” Clayton asked.
“Joe Stansky. He seems to control the resources in town, which makes him pretty powerful. I think he started corralling supplies well before we arrived. I’m guessing he’s been the guy with the real power for some time.”
“I worry about us getting ripped off when we’re in town,” Tom said. “Why don’t they just trade with us right here?”
Clayton nodded in agreement. “Save a lot of fuss,” he said.
“They want to make a big show of this for the citizens,” Kevin said. They’re making it like a holiday celebration. There’s going to be a barbecue and extra food. Anytime you get extra food, you’ll have a big crowd.”
“You can’t get the whole town together in one spot. Hell, it’ll be unmanageable and we’ll never get our business done,” Jason said.
“Only certain people, mostly VIPs, the city bosses, and the inspectors get into the main event, where we’ll be doing the trading,” Kevin replied. “They’re also putting out free food at other locations around town to celebrate the event.”
“So we’ve got some leverage here,” Tom said. “They need this to happen.”
“Not on this point, it seems,” Kevin replied. “I think Frank and company are fearful of the people seeing you walk around armed and obviously free to act as you please. There’s not much freedom here in Hillsboro.” After a pause he added, “Peace and stability, but not much freedom.”
Jason thought for a moment as everyone digested what Kevin had said. “We don’t want to give up our weapons, but we also want to complete this trading. We have what they need and they have things we need. It’d be a shame to not make all this work, even if it’s not off to the best start.”
He looked at Kevin. “I don’t want to stand on principle. I want to be practical. Putting our weapons in your hands…if that would make this happen—and if you can make sure you keep some military presence with us, since I don’t trust this guy Frank or the police chief—I could accept that.” Jason turned to the others.
“I’ll go along with it,” Tom said. The other farmers nodded in agreement.
“And your people?” Jason asked, turning to Clayton Jessup.
“Goes against my grain.” Clayton looked at Kevin. “I don’t know you, but Jason says you okay. His reputation is good with us, so I’m agreed.”
“Settled.” Jason said. “Let’s mark our weapons and get things going.”
Chapter 11
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A fter the weapons were collected the convoy made its way through Hillsboro to a parking lot filled with a couple hundred cheering people. A large section was cordoned off with barrels and orange tape. The convoy pulled into the empty area and parked.
The farmers quickly unloaded a few of the sacks of flour and meal for samples, with the bulk remaining in the wagons. The city had provided stacks of folding tables on the edge of the lot, along with chairs, and the farmers set them up in two rows and laid out samples of their milled grain and mounds of garden vegetables. The baked goods had been carefully wrapped to maintain their freshness, and when the bundles were unrolled, the bread still smelled as if it had just come out of the oven. The enchanting aroma set people’s mouths wat
ering. The clans laid out their skins and produce on mats placed on the ground. Tom and Clayton followed the town’s inspectors around as they examined the goods, accompanied by a clump of well-dressed townspeople who didn’t seem to be doing anything but gawking.
The farmers had a list of items they wanted in exchange, and the Jessup’s and Early’s had another. The lists were similar, containing antibiotics, pain pills, diarrhea medicine, boots, and ammunition. In addition, the farmers had brought some broken equipment that needed welding—plows and discs and a hitch—and drums to fill with diesel and gasoline. The plan was that, after inspecting the goods, the city officials would list what they had of the requested items and the two groups would begin to negotiate a trade.
The atmosphere was turning festive in spite of a strong militia presence. The smoke from the long row of grills on the downtown end of the parking lot wafted over the area, stimulating everyone’s appetite, including the farmers and clansmen. Soon after the inspectors had finished their rounds, the cooks began serving, calling everyone over. In spite of their misgivings, the farmers, clansmen and townspeople began to relax and enjoy themselves.
“Mmmm, that’s good!” Anne slurped at her fingers and offered her pinky to little Adam.
Jason just grinned at her, his mouth stuffed with pork and bread.
He looked around to find Sarah and Catherine. They were among the army group, sitting with their beaus. “Looks like the girls are enjoying themselves. Let’s hope this is a sign of the rest of the day going well. We didn’t get off to such a good start.”
Anne smiled at him in agreement. She pointed to a group of well-dressed people. “It’s strange, they’re so dressed up.”
“They probably see this as a holiday like you do. Maybe we should have put on our Sunday best,” he said with a wink.
“Are you kidding? This was a lot of hard work to get here.” She laughed.
When Anne and Jason had finished eating, Anne picked up Adam and they went over to Tom. He was seated next to a town official, talking animatedly about life in the valley. Kevin had told them that the negotiations would be done in one of the empty stores that faced the parking lot, but nobody seemed anxious to break the moment.
